


Something Under Your Tongue

by uaevuon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Androgyny, But YMMV, Demigods, Demons, Dependent Behavior, Dissociation, Erotic Horror, Fluff, Heat Sex, Large Insertion, M/M, Magic, Marriage Proposal, Possessive Behavior, Succubi & Incubi, Tentacle!Yuuri Week, Tentacles, Time Skips, Transformation, Violent Sex, do not take that tag lightly, don't be fooled by the fluffy beginning, makkachin is safe, no dubcon, really violent sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 14:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15121622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaevuon/pseuds/uaevuon
Summary: March 17, 2016Journal of V. NikiforovToday, there is a beautiful man in my window seat at Christophe’s.His name is Yuuri. I think I’m in love with him./Viktor has spent years searching for proof that magic exists. He has sustained himself on bits of knowledge here and there, but nothing concrete. Then Yuuri comes into his life, and he's exactly what Viktor has been looking for.





	Something Under Your Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Please see end notes for a bit of explanation on some of the tags. 
> 
> Inspired by demon/incubus lore, with special influence from “[The Invitation](http://incase.buttsmithy.com/comic/the-invitation-p1/)” by Incase, spurred into motion by weird dreams I had while running a fever, and finished off by self-care after a truly atrocious day in my mental health. Now, I present it to you as a gift for Tentacle Week. There are a lot of easter eggs in here for those already familiar with mythology and fantasy creatures; if you notice some, tell me your favorites! 
> 
> Beta’d by squeezebabe and cremexbrulee. Thank you so so much for taking a chance on this fic!

_March 17, 2016_

_Journal of V. Nikiforov_

_Today, there is a beautiful man in my window seat at Christophe's._

\---

Chris brought Viktor his Sunday usual -- a dark-roast latte with brown sugar -- to the corner table that Viktor had resigned himself to for the day. Chris seemed to laugh with his eyes when he sat down, almost blocking out Viktor's view of the newcomer. 

"Too bad, you can't scare the passerby today with your... research."

"If you minded, you wouldn't have opened your coffeeshop between an adult novelty store and a love hotel," Viktor pointed out. 

"True," Chris agreed. He picked at his nametag, which read: _Christophe -- OWNER_ , and then the translation into Japanese below, in larger text. The legs of the "R" were scratched; if one looked too quickly, they might read it as _OWNED_. Which, knowing Chris, Viktor thought was more accurate. 

"Aren't you going to ask?" Viktor watched Chris expectantly. They knew each other mainly as customer and barista-slash-cafelier, more acquaintances than friends, with the added benefit of sharing fluency in the French language. Viktor was one of Chris's favorite regulars, and Chris had long been interested in his work, and every morning, Sunday through Thursday, he would sit down with Viktor for a few minutes to hear the newest revelations. Usually, there was nothing; very rarely, Chris would catch Viktor in a moment of discovery, and watch him positively glitter with enthusiasm, spouting off lore and mythology and quasi-science that sounded about as scientific as alchemy. Some of it actually _was_ alchemy. 

"You seem excited. Did you find something?" Chris asked. 

"Yes," Viktor answered. "Remember how I told you, on the day we met, about why I moved here?"

"Vaguely. You said something about magic lines." Chris never believed a word of it, and Viktor knew that. 

He wasn't offended; he understood the reasons many had for skepticism. Some days, Viktor himself wondered if he really believed all of this. But he had spent his whole life studying what he liked to call _The Language_ \-- the language of the world, the universe, of spiritual energies mere humans could not fully understand -- that he couldn't even consider giving up now. He always felt that he was so close, like he was only a step away from glory, perhaps even divinity itself. The next source could give him all the answers... he just had to keep going. 

"Yes," Viktor continued. "Ley lines -- straight lines connecting magically significant locations. Most magic practitioners these days totally discount the concept, saying they are easily explained by either astronomy or random chance... but I don't think that's a reason to do away with them! The cosmos is always affecting us, and _random chance_ is perhaps the greatest and most mysterious magic of all." 

"Mm. You said they connected here?"

"Yes. There is a perfect overlap of seven ley lines in this city --"

"Seven ley lines overlapping in one of the most densely populated countries in the world, in a country whose citizens joke about there being a god for each grain of rice..." 

"A crossing of seven ley lines only happens twice elsewhere in the whole _world_ , Chris, and one of them is in the middle of the ocean." 

"And the other?"

"Alexandria."

"Ah." Chris leaned in, propping his elbows on the table. 

"Major cities tend to spring up around crossings of three to five lines," Viktor explained. "There seems to be no correlation among areas with six crossings, and with so few at seven crossings... Well, I thought coming to Fukuoka would give me some insight, after so many years in Alexandria." 

"And what did you find?"

"I found that the crossover may not be in Fukuoka after all."

"Oh, god." Chris leaned back once more, groaning. "Will I lose my favorite client on some wild goose chase?"

"Of course not. It's not far. You see, I analyzed the locations that served as markers for the lines, and found that it was, in many cases, their _entrances_ which were used as markers, rather than their spiritual centers. And to re-configure the lines in that manner, the seven-crossing location would move about fifty kilometers west-southwest."

"Saga?" 

"Mhm. My best guess is a small coastal town, Hasetsu."

"Excuse me," came a new voice, breaking through their rapid French utterings with soft-spoken Japanese. "Did you say something about Hasetsu?" 

Viktor and Chris looked up, and of course, it was the beautiful stranger Viktor had made note of in his journal, the one who had taken Viktor's storefront window bench seat. Backlit by the sunlight streaming in, he looked almost angelic. 

Viktor blinked a few times. "Yes," he responded in kind. 

"Oh." The stranger fiddled with his coffee cup for a moment, before adding: "I'm from Hasetsu." 

"Oh!" Viktor's eyes opened impossibly wider; distantly, he noticed Chris lean on his hand and smirk at him, in that very Chris way of his. 

"What is it you're talking about? If it's not too much to pry..."

"Not at all!" Viktor snapped his notebook shut and dragged his laptop and the messenger bag too-full with books over to the bench seat. 

Chris rolled his eyes, but listened in on the conversation anyway. 

Viktor repeated much of what he'd told Chris, this time in Japanese, and the stranger looked completely interested, if a bit shocked. 

"So, I was going to make a trip there and see if there's anything particularly magical going on. But if you're from there, perhaps you could give me some direction --"

"Magical?" The stranger frowned. "That depends on what you think is magical. Some people say natural hot springs are magical, and we have plenty of those, but Hasetsu isn't exactly a... spiritual town, or anything like that."

"Hot springs!" Viktor exclaimed. "That sounds lovely." 

"Well, they are pretty great... What's your name, anyway?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm Viktor Nikiforov. And you?"

"Viktor..." The stranger repeated. He blinked a few times, then smiled so bright Viktor felt like the whole world had fallen out of balance. "I'm Katsuki Yuuri. Please, call me Yuuri."

\---

_March 17, 2016_

_Journal of V. Nikiforov_

_Today, there is a beautiful man in my window seat at Christophe's._

_His name is Yuuri. I think I'm in love with him._

\---

Yuuri was in Fukuoka for graduate school, and finishing up his final semester. While he promised to bring Viktor to his hometown, he apologized because it would be a few months before he could go back; he didn’t even have a few hours to spare for the trip, much less a whole weekend away. He was finishing up his thesis, he said, for a degree in Russian literature, of all things. He blushed as he said this, and admitted he could tell from Viktor's accent that he was from Russia, and didn't want him to think Yuuri was just saying it for his attention or anything. 

Viktor didn't think that at all. Yuuri had his attention without doing anything. He’d drawn Viktor’s interest simply by chance of taking his usual seat. 

They said their goodbyes, and Yuuri promised to come by the coffee shop as often as he could; it was a calming atmosphere, he said, and as long as he and Viktor didn't talk the whole time he could get a lot of work done on his thesis. 

Viktor supposed the amount of research he had could be compiled into some sort of thesis on metaphysics and folklore, but he much preferred to believe that when he found his answers, he wouldn't need something so mundane as a degree to show off his success. But he wished Yuuri the best, sincerely. 

They met weekly, sometimes more, discussing Viktor's research and Yuuri's thesis, Viktor’s poodle, even figure skating, for which they realized they both harbored a secret love. 

Eventually, talking turned to flirting, which Viktor could hardly believe. Yuuri would tease him good-naturedly, would let slip compliments that sounded like proposals to Viktor’s besotted ears. When Viktor responded in kind, Yuuri blushed to the tips of his ears and beyond. He would scoot away, widening the distance between them, fighting the inevitable magnetism that brought them to lean into one another’s sides. Yuuri would demur, would try to refute Viktor’s kind words. But he’d smile, and that was enough for Viktor. 

Sometimes Yuuri brought his friend and roommate along; Phichit was interested in Yuuri's Strange Coffeeshop Wizard, as he called Viktor. But after hearing Viktor's explanation of his work, he tended to spend the rest of his visit on coding, or flirting good-naturedly with the baristas, or engaging in some sort of battle of double-entendres with Chris. 

Mostly, Viktor paid attention to Yuuri. The young man was bright, obviously, but more than that he was stubborn and single-minded, having finished his undergrad studies a year early, and now nearly done with a graduate program that sounded, to Viktor's interpretation, like Yuuri had made it a thousand times more difficult for himself than it needed to be, claiming a need to "prove himself" amongst his peers. He wasn't shy, but certainly kept his emotions close to his chest, only letting them shine through in brief moments of frustration, or worry, or joy. 

He once inquired after Viktor's career; Viktor said he didn't have one. His eccentricities had always been supported by his mothers as well, who were practitioners of a certain form of witchcraft themselves; the three of them spared what they could for him when he needed it. On top of that, he had an inheritance from an aunt who’d left the world an old maid. He had a part-time job as a librarian in the evening, but for the most part, that inheritance was what kept him on his feet these days. 

But more than anything, they sat in companionable silence, each doing their own research, as they soaked in one another’s existence. It was comfortable, and Yuuri was warm as he leaned against Viktor’s side, radiant when he looked over for a moment and smiled, soft and peaceful when he dozed in the afternoons, his head pillowed on Viktor’s shoulder. 

Yuuri followed him to work a few times, amused by the library's meagre Russian section. It was on a particularly slow night at the library that Viktor found himself faced for the first time with a side of Yuuri he could never have imagined. 

"Viktor," Yuuri whispered in his ear, as Viktor shelved some old, dusty books in a corner of the library that was usually devoid of any life forms whatsoever. 

"Yes, my Yuuri?" Viktor had taken to calling Yuuri’s his, after Yuuri blushed the first time the endearment slipped from his lips. 

"Look at this." Yuuri's arms snaked around Viktor's waist from behind, holding open a book on local fairy tales. "Apparently there's a well-spirit around here that grants wishes. Do you think that's useful to your magic?" 

"Hm?" Viktor honestly hadn't heard a word of what Yuuri said; he was too focused on the sudden warmth at his back. 

Truthfully, Viktor had been worried. He worried that Yuuri was afraid of him, or intimidated. Viktor often found himself reaching out to touch Yuuri, in his excitement or joy, and Yuuri would pull back, certainly never initiating anything. But here Yuuri was, pressed to him head-to-toe. His arms encircled Viktor so closely that it seemed as if there were more than two of them, constricting but safe, protective. And so _warm_... 

"Viktor?"

"Yes, Yuuri?"

There was a hand on his belly, smoothing down the front of his shirt. Another played with the second buttonhole on Viktor’s shirt; the paired button had fallen off, and rather than fix it Viktor tended to just leave the top two open. The book -- where had the book gone? "What's wrong?" Yuuri asked, as his hands continued to distract. 

"You're, ah, not usually this close."

"Do you not like it?" 

"God no!" Yuuri flinched, and Viktor instantly felt bad for shouting. "I-I thought you didn't want to be touched."

"It's not that," Yuuri said. "Not that at all." Yuuri leaned his head forward, and his face was burning hot against the back of Viktor's neck. "It's just that I know you want to touch me, and I worry that if I let you do it, then I won't let you stop."

"O-oh. Well, what's different now?"

"Now, we're alone. And I don't have to stop if you don't want me to." 

Viktor listened to their breaths in the quiet of the library. Moments passed, in silence. 

"Do you want me to stop?" Yuuri asked, his voice small and tight. 

"No." Viktor tried to keep the waver out of his voice; it came from excitement, but the moment was delicate, and Yuuri could misinterpret it. Viktor didn't want that. Viktor didn't want anything to interrupt them, least of all himself. "Yuuri, touch me. I want you to touch me. However, wherever you want."

"Wherever I want?" 

"Yes."

Yuuri's hands went to the front of his pants. Viktor gasped, his hand flying out to grab hold of the shelf in front of him, and the cart of books to his side. 

Between Yuuri's lips, warm on the back of Viktor's neck, and Yuuri's hands rubbing at his crotch, Viktor knew he couldn't last. He had scarcely touched himself in the last few years, finding the whole of his pleasure in the constant drive forward into his single-minded research, and had never had a partner, not since the fleeting, childish kisses of his boarding school days. 

He came inside his pants, barely able to warn Yuuri before it happened. 

"Yuuri..." he whispered, feeling the strength leave his body. Viktor sagged, but Yuuri held him up, led him to a nearby armchair. 

"Here. Rest," Yuuri said, demanding even in the softest of tones. "Take a nap."

"But... I have to work..." Viktor protested, though he felt like his bones had all turned to jelly. 

"No-one will notice if you take a nap, Viktor."

Viktor couldn't protest anymore; he slipped from post-orgasmic haze into an exhausted sleep.

\---

_April 20, 2016_

_Journal of V. Nikiforov_

_Yuuri and I have become closer than ever. I now know that his distance has been borne of a herculean attempt at self-control; he wants me as much as I want him. Perhaps, impossibly, more. I only hope I can return the favor soon._

\---

Viktor awoke in his own bed, with no memory of how he got there. He heard a huff to his right, and turned to see his dog, Makkachin, taking up more than her fair share of the bed. He heard clattering in his kitchen, and shot up out of bed so fast he stumbled with the blood rush. 

Clutching his head and brandishing an 18th century magician's knife (which was the size of a sword, but only sharpened on one edge, and with an encasing wooden handle, thus it was by all technicality still a knife) Viktor stumbled into the kitchen, and saw Yuuri at the stove. 

Yuuri raised his eyebrows. "Good morning, Viktor." 

Viktor let the knife-sword fall to the ground. "Yuuri!" 

"I brought you home last night," Yuuri said. "Don't worry, your shift was almost over. I let your manager know you had collapsed, and called us a cab."

"Oh, I am so sorry. Let me pay you back --"

"How would you like to do that?" Yuuri interrupted, a small smile stretching his lips. 

Viktor was instantly hard, and the second blood rush brought him to his knees. He noticed then that he was naked, which meant Yuuri must have undressed him, and now was seeing him in his full glory. "Yuuri. Please let me suck you." 

"Wow. You get right to the point, don't you?" Yuuri turned back to the stove. "In a bit. I want to finish cooking. You'll need to be well-fed if you plan to stay awake this time." 

Yuuri gestured toward the table, and Viktor sat at his usual chair, bare-assed against the cushion, his cock hard as a rock. He hadn't experienced this kind of libido in years, not since the turn of his eighteenth year when he’d discovered magic and subsequently bought a series of larger and larger dildos online, fucking himself on them for hours each day, missing much of his first and only year of college for masturbation. He fielded fantasies of faceless fae with enormous cocks splitting him open, until he finally dropped out of school, completely uncaring of his prior studies in the face of magic and cock -- 

Yuuri brought breakfast to the table. It was simple; cut up fruits and a couple sausage links each, all food Viktor knew he didn't normally have in his home. 

"You went shopping?"

"Thought I might as well, since you slept like a log. I took Makkachin out too. Now eat."

Viktor did eat, and he watched Yuuri as he did; watched bits of fruit and meat disappear between his shiny, pink lips. More than once he forgot his own meal, just watched Yuuri for endless moments, until Yuuri would catch his eye, smile lightly, and encourage him to eat more. 

Despite Viktor's many breaks, they finished eating at the same time, and Yuuri took the dishes to the sink and cleaned them, and he told Viktor to make himself comfortable in the living room. 

Viktor draped himself over the sofa, trying to look as alluring as possible, but Yuuri didn't even look at him until the dishes were done. But then, oh, _then_ \-- he stripped, slowly, right in the living room, in front of the windows with curtains drawn open, and sat in Viktor's armchair. 

"Well?" Yuuri said. "You mentioned sucking me."

Viktor leapt from the sofa to the floor at Yuuri's feet. He had done this before, but only to silicone, yet he didn't hesitate. Yuuri was already half hard, and he was _big_ , and Viktor's throat burned with the need to convulse around him. So Viktor sucked him down, as deep as he could go, and then deeper, until he was choking on it, and deeper still, until his lips reached the base and his nose was pressed firmly against neatly trimmed black hair and Yuuri was tensed like a bow, every muscle in his body straining with the sudden pleasure. 

"Viktor!" Yuuri shouted, and Viktor lifted his head, then dropped back down before he even reached the tip. Yuuri whined, and Viktor did this again, and Yuuri's hips stuttered. 

Viktor pulled off, sucking down lungfuls of air. "So big... just relax, Yuuri, don't move, let me do this." He licked his lips. "You can fuck my face next time." 

Yuuri grabbed the fine hair at the back of Viktor’s neck and yanked his face forward, fingers curling relentlessly until Yuuri's cock was down Viktor's throat again. 

Within minutes, Yuuri was letting out loud, sobbing moans each time Viktor went down and keening whines when he came up. Viktor gripped Yuuri's hips, then slid his hands up Yuuri's sides, squeezing the pudge on his belly and pressing his thumbs into Yuuri's waist. 

"Viktor," Yuuri moaned, then again and again. 

Viktor wanted to beg him to come, but his mouth was full and he refused to pull off. Still, he tried to vocalize his desire, but _Come, my Yuuri_ left his mouth as "Mmm, hnn!" 

"Viktor, oh, I'm coming, please--" Yuuri's hand was at the back of Viktor's neck again, pulling at his hair. 

"Mmh!" _In me._

And Yuuri was coming, hot like fire down Viktor's throat. 

Viktor sucked him a moment longer, pulling off only when Yuuri went limp. His cock slipped from Viktor's mouth, still hard, and Viktor marvelled when his erection didn't seem to go down. He reached out a hand, but Yuuri stopped him. 

"Give me a few minutes. Sensitive." Yuuri took heaving breaths. "I didn't mean to come in your mouth, I tried to pull you back."

"I wanted it." 

"I know you did." 

"I'd take poison from you if only I could drink it from your skin." The words fell unbidden from Viktor's lips, shocking him as much as Yuuri, but still painfully honest. 

Yuuri bit his lips, looking adorably shy, though Viktor knew that he was nothing of the sort. Well -- adorable, yes; shy, no. "Guess there's nothing to be done about it now." 

"Can I... come up there?" Viktor asked tentatively. 

Yuuri reached out his arms for him. Viktor rose and immediately settled himself into Yuuri's lap, their lips meeting in an instant and tongues twining together. Yuuri's hand dropped between Viktor's legs, stroking his hard cock, thumbing the head, then reaching lower to play with his balls. 

"Yes, please..."

"Please, what?" Yuuri asked. 

"Touch me. Fuck me." Viktor squirmed in Yuuri's lap. 

"You want me to fuck you?"

Viktor nodded. 

"Do you have --"

Viktor nodded again, and he scrambled out of the chair to find his supplies. He came back with a condom and half-full bottle of lube, which luckily had not expired since he last used either. He straddled Yuuri's lap again. 

"Will you open me up, Yuuri?" 

Yuuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes. Yes." He slicked his fingers and reached between Viktor's legs, sliding wet digits between his cheeks, rubbing at his hole. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please, fuck me, Yuuri." 

The preparation was a blur, so intense was Viktor's pleasure. It was as when he fucked himself silly all those years ago, except _more_ , because it was Yuuri's fingers splitting him open. And when Yuuri reached for the condom, Viktor snatched it out from under his fingers and flung it across the room. 

"No. Fuck me, without it. I haven't had anyone but you, and I don't want anything else."

Yuuri's eyes seemed to blaze with heat, and then he was pushing in, filling Viktor up from the inside, fucking him open wider than any dildo, splitting him right down the middle, gripping his heart and biting into it as he bit into Viktor's shoulder, thrusting hot into the deepest part of him. 

Viktor must have come, as he felt slick between his cock and Yuuri's stomach, but Yuuri kept him bouncing in his lap, kept fucking up with incomprehensible force, and Viktor could only slump against him and take it. Sobs of the highest pleasure escaped his lips, until he felt Yuuri's cock throb inside him, and the heat of his second release. 

Viktor leaned fully against Yuuri, refusing to move, refusing to let Yuuri withdraw from him until his cock, fully soft, slipped from Viktor without any movement on either of their parts. Viktor felt Yuuri's cum dripping from him, and only then did he move, reaching his fingers back to cover his gaping hole, trying to keep it all in. 

"Viktor," Yuuri breathed, and his fingers joined Viktor's, pushing up inside him, making Viktor groan. He was overstimulated, but didn't want Yuuri to stop, so he held tight to Yuuri's shoulders while Yuuri's fingers slipped effortlessly in and out of him, while they curled into his walls and made him see stars, made him whine with burning pleasure, sweat dripping down his back. He felt like he was coming again, over and over. 

They didn't make it to the coffee shop that day.

\---

_April 21, 2016_

_Journal of V. Nikiforov_

_Yuuri has exceeded my wildest imaginations._

\---

Eventually Yuuri had to leave, to both of their disappointment; he had classes to attend, and a thesis to work on. In the moments before Yuuri's Uber arrived, they cuddled in the street entrance of Viktor's apartment building, trading fluttering kisses, kisses that might have turned to more if they weren't so pressed for time. 

It amazed Viktor; the switch from the serious, stubborn, distant Yuuri he was used to, to Yuuri the desperate lover of the past twelve hours, and now this giggly, cuddly Yuuri who didn't want to let go. Every version of Yuuri was radiant, and Viktor wanted nothing more than to be swallowed up by his sunlight. 

When Yuuri finally withdrew from Viktor's arms, looking over his shoulder with every few steps, waving out the backseat window of his Uber, Viktor could only slump against the door and stare after him with longing -- _return to me, this instant!_ he thought, but Yuuri was gone down the street. 

Viktor returned to his apartment; to his bed. He found the box of dildos he kept in his closet, all of them well cared for if not used for a while. He extracted some of the largest, laid himself out on his bed, and tried to find pleasure half as good as what Yuuri fucked into him.

\---

_April 21, 2016_

_Journal of V. Nikiforov_

_Yuuri has exceeded my wildest imaginations._

_I miss him. It has been mere hours, but I miss him with my whole body and soul._

\---

Viktor considered staying home the next day, but he dragged himself to Christophe's coffee shop, if only because he wondered if he might see Yuuri there again this morning. Chris's eyes went wide when he saw Viktor step in, as if he'd seen a ghost. 

"Viktor! I haven't seen you in days. Where have you been?"

"I've only missed one morning," Viktor mumbled. He took a seat at his usual window. Chris brought him his coffee, and Viktor sipped it, then squinted. "Is this my Wednesday usual?" Viktor had a very careful system established, of ordering the same seven drinks on rotation, one for each day of the week. He’d done so long enough that Chris knew his orders by heart. 

"Wh- of course it is, Viktor, today is Wednesday."

"It's Friday. April twenty-second."

Chris squinted at him, and spoke slowly. "It's Wednesday. April twenty-seventh." 

"Is this some kind of joke?" 

"Check your calendar."

Viktor frowned at him, but opened his laptop anyway, immediately going to his calendar app. Lo and behold -- Wednesday, April twenty-seventh. "That can't be right."

"What happened? Don't tell me your sunshine finally got a clue and fucked you into the next week." 

Viktor glanced at his journal. 

"Oh my god, he did. Well, congratulations, but are you okay? How do you just lose a whole week?"

"I don't know, Chris. I passed out in the library after he got me off through my pants." Viktor suddenly realized they were in public, and was immensely grateful for his and Chris's tendency to speak French with one another, as well as Chris's particular choice of his shop's location and general tendency to overshare about his sexuality. 

"Well?" Chris said, flapping his hands in a gesture for Viktor to continue. Clearly, he didn’t mind hearing about this. 

"He brought me home while I was unconscious. He cooked me breakfast and walked my dog. I sucked him in my chair and then rode him until I couldn't speak, then he fingered me until I couldn't see. After he left, I fucked myself like a teenager on all my biggest dildos, for hours. I can't get enough. I'm here because I have a routine and I have research but I want to _die_ , I feel so _empty_ , even stuffed with the biggest plug I could find next door." Viktor dropped his head down, curled up fully onto the bench. "Is it like this for you?" he asked. He’d heard plenty about Chris’s sex life, more than he’d ever expected from someone he never saw outside the coffee shop, but never heard anything quite like this. 

Chris hesitated; his eyes were wide as saucers, and magnified further by his round, thick glasses. "God, I wish it was. I come at the slightest breeze, I could never go for hours. How big is he?" 

"Imagine shoving your whole forearm up--"

"Dear _lord_ ," Chris interrupted. "I can't believe it. He doesn't look like anything."

"He's small when he's soft. I don't understand where he keeps it. It's like a balloon." Viktor rocked himself slightly. "I miss him. Not just his cock; I miss _him_ , all of him, fuck, Chris, I think I love him." 

Chris sat down in the nearest chair. "Viktor, look at me."

Viktor looked up, and Chris startled. 

"I... thought I saw something." Chris squinted; behind the thick lenses of his glasses, this looked somewhat comical. "Never mind. Must have been the light. I-- Have you spoken to him since you fucked?"

"No. I was hoping to see him here."

"Couldn't you call him?"

"...I don't have his number."

Chris blinked. "Of course you don't have his number, you shut-in, you have no idea how to make friends. Well, I have his roommate's number, and while I was hoping to keep that a booty-call-only line, I guess I can let you have it if you're so desperate for your man." Chris took out his phone, scrolled through his contacts, and handed it to Viktor already ringing. 

"Fuck, Chris, I don't-- Hello? Ah, no, _oh my god_ , this isn't Chris! No! It's Viktor! That's fine, I just, I'm looking for Yuuri--"

The coffee shop's door opened, a bell tinkling to herald a new customer. Chris and Viktor both looked up. 

"Oh! Well, it seems that Yuuri's here, so I'll just talk to him now. Okay, bye!" Viktor hung up and, blushing to his ears, thrust the phone back at a grinning Chris. He stood up and threw his arms around Yuuri, who had just entered the shop, looking a bit dishevelled. 

"Yuuri! Phichit says you don't have a phone! Something about breaking it?"

"Yeah, I keep breaking them when I, um, get anxious... Hi Viktor. Hi Chris. Hi, rest of the coffee shop that is now all staring at us." 

" _Yuuri_ ," Viktor whined, and buried his face in Yuuri's neck. 

Yuuri's hand came up to comb through Viktor's bangs, pushing his hair a bit to the side to see Viktor's eyes when he leaned back. "I missed you. I know it's only been a few hours --"

"You've both been gone for days!" Chris said, not loud but very close. "Where were you? What did you do with Viktor?" 

"Days?" Yuuri said, eyes wide. "Oh, damn, I-- I fucked up. What day is it?"

"April twenty-seventh." 

Yuuri mumbled something neither Chris nor Viktor could understand. "Okay, that... explains a lot. Come on, Viktor, let's sit down." 

They did sit, and for the first time, Yuuri made sure he was touching Viktor all day. Viktor could hardly concentrate on his research, but he tried; Yuuri seemed slow on his thesis as well, and a nervous energy radiated off of him in waves. They spoke little, only soaking up one another’s presence.

Yuuri had to leave before Viktor, citing a night class that he belatedly realized he would have to go to, being that it was Wednesday, and he'd already missed a week's worth of classes without knowing. Chris took his place. 

Chris was quiet for a few moments. "Viktor, I know we aren't that close -- we only know each other from you patroning my shop nearly every day. But I feel I have to say something. 

"I think he's dangerous. I think Yu-” Chris paused in the middle of Yuuri’s name, and seemed to rethink what he was about to say. “I think he's hiding something from you. No, I'm sure of it. But I can't... I can't tell you to stop seeing him. Not just because I know you won't listen to me, but also, I think he's exactly what you're looking for. And it scares me, because, I'm sorry to say, I never thought you would find it."

Viktor was listening, but he was also staring out the window, fingertips pressed gently to the glass. "I think he's exactly what I'm looking for, too. Thank you, Chris."

\---

_April 27, 2016_

_Journal of V. Nikiforov_

_Yuuri is the one. I'm certain of it. My whole world has begun to revolve around him. I've neglected my job, my research, what few acquaintances I have. But I don't care. Everything, every step in my life, has been a step closer to Yuuri. Everything I have done has led me here, to him. It has prepared me to accept him into my life, wholly and without reservation. I have no regrets._

\---

Chris sat in his shop that evening, counting cash for the day, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He felt a breeze ruffle his hair; he stopped counting, but didn't look up. 

The bills vanished from Chris's hands with a flick of his fingers, and only then did he speak. "I knew there was something strange about you from the moment you walked in. I've felt that about humans before. But you, you're something different. I should have done something then. No-one comes here without a reason." 

"Don't tell him," Yuuri said, looking genuinely afraid. "I can't lose him. Not now."

"He'll follow you to the end of the earth whether you're a human, or a vampire, or a demon, or whatever else you are."

"You don't understand!" Yuuri shouted. The windows rattled, but held; Chris silently thanked his boyfriend's spellcasting for that. "You're just some weak witchling! A half-baked oracle with little more than the card tricks you call charms." Yuuri took one step forward, then stopped. "He's already changing. He chose it; he wanted it, more than anything. He invited me in. I can't stop it, even if I wanted to. But if we're separated, it could kill him."

"I figured. That's how it goes with _things_ like you, hm?" 

"Don't tell him."

"I won't. But you better. There are witches and fae, much stronger than me, who have a lot more stake in Viktor's life."

"I believe that. But there are none stronger than me."

With another gust of wind, this one more wild than the first, Yuuri was gone. Chris went back to counting bills, returning them to his hands with a swipe of his thumb. With a breath, his cigarette lit itself, and filled the coffee shop with smoke.

\---

_May 28, 2016_

_Journal of V. Nikiforov_

_I have moved in with Yuuri. Phichit insists our constant lovemaking does not bother him. I for one believe he's recording our noise through the walls and posting it online. I don't mind; in fact, I welcome it. I want the world to know about us._

_Yuuri's love is overwhelming, but he also brings a sort of calming element to my thus-far frantic pace of life. He helps me with my research, ever since completing his thesis, and I find myself re-invigorated now that he studies beside me._

_To think I started this research years ago to find proof of magic, when the only magic I needed was Yuuri's love to find fulfillment in my life. Now we move boldly on together._

\---

Yuuri brought Viktor to Hasetsu during the peak of their tourist season, in late May after the completion of his graduate program. They arrived late at night. Every room at his parents' inn was occupied, all but Yuuri's childhood bedroom, with the tiny bed and the posters of figure skaters in glittering costumes. Makkachin accompanied them, and the trio barely fit in the small room, but somehow the twin bed, seeming at first glance large enough only to hold perhaps half a person, was just big enough for the three of them. 

Viktor woke early in the morning, stroking Yuuri's slumbering face until he snuffled and woke, smiling lips coming forth to press against Viktor's. They got up and took Makkachin for a walk, right out to the beach; they sat beside each other on a piece of driftwood. 

Minutes passed in silence. Suddenly, Yuuri spoke. 

"I have to apologize. No, don't look at me like that -- there's a reason. I haven't been entirely honest with you." 

Viktor smiled. "We all have our secrets, Yuuri."

"This is... more than a secret. Remember what you told me the day we met? About the ley lines converging on Hasetsu?" Yuuri asked. "Do you want to know what it means?"

"You... you know? Yuuri!"

Yuuri didn't meet his eyes. "Seven lines means a source of great loss and destruction. Not every such event happens at a juncture like that, but these three places... They all have it."

"What do you mean by loss and destruction?" Viktor asked, surprised. 

"For one, anyone who has ever done research knows of the library of Alexandria. As for the one in the middle of the ocean -- does anything come to mind? A great loss under the sea?"

"You're not thinking of Atlantis, are you? That's a child's myth."

"A child's myth, but you pull sources from fairy tales." Yuuri rolled his eyes, but there was no nonchalance about it; his hands twisted around one another, betraying his anxiety. 

"Okay, I'll buy Atlantis. But what's the destruction in Hasetsu? I mean, you told me the town went under in recent years, but it doesn't seem to match -- oh. 

"Oh no. That's not it at all." Viktor stroked his hand down Yuuri's cheek. "It's you." 

"Ah. So you figured it out after all." Yuuri smiled; he blinked, and when his eyes opened again, they were pitch black, from pupil to lid. His blackout eyes could have looked sinister, but instead, they were just as warm and welcoming as the browns of his glamour. 

"Some part of me has known you were what I was looking for from the very beginning,” VIktor said. “But I wasn't sure, not until now."

"And what do you think? Now that you know." Yuuri blinked; inky black lashes fluttered over eyes just as dark.

"Like I said, you're what I've been looking for. I know that now, more certainly than ever. I love you, Yuuri. I want to know everything about you. I want to be yours, forever."

Yuuri leaned in, and they were kissing, Viktor's hands gripping the front of his shirt. "Viktor," Yuuri murmured against his lips. "Viktor, I love you too. But, please, you need to know --"

"You'll destroy me. You'll destroy me, and remake me, and I'll be perfect for you. I know, Yuuri. I want it."

Yuuri shook his head. Bit by bit, his appearance was changing; his face kept its roundness, his body its soft weight, but his shape shifted, thinning out here, thickening there, horns budding from his scalp, his complexion losing his healthy glow to give way to a greyish pallor, with white and dark blue markings appearing on his face and arms. The air shivered behind him, writhing, becoming more opaque as if it were solidifying. "Viktor, you won't be perfect for me.” His voice seemed to echo, to thrum in the air, sparked like static electricity on Viktor’s skin. “You'll be perfect for yourself, and that can be infinitely more terrifying."

"Perfect for myself? What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I don't control it. I am the catalyst but it's all to do with your will." Yuuri shut his eyes, suddenly feeling emotion choking his throat. "You didn't have an ounce of magic in you when we met. Even with your three witch mothers and you practically living in the liminal space of that half-fae's coffee shop."

"What, Chris? He can't be magical, he never believed a word I said."

"He was trying to hide it from you. That's what we do. You're not supposed to know about it unless you're part of it. But, damn it all, you were so empty of magic that you latched right on to the most magical thing you could find. And my magic isn't good for humans. It'll make you something else, just so you can survive." 

"So, what are you? A demon?"

"Much more than that, I'm afraid. I'm... well, I'm the stuff of nightmares." Yuuri pulled away from Viktor's grasp, finally allowing Viktor so see him without his second skin - the horns, the wings, the claws, the undulating tentacles that churned the humid, crackling air around them. "Everyone here is _something_. And we can't hide who we are here. Even holding my form for one night... it wouldn't be possible for anyone else." Yuuri searched Viktor's face. "It won't be possible for you."

For the first time since Viktor met Yuuri, he felt fear. But despite it, there was no urge to run, to beg, to turn back. It was simply fear of the unknown, and after all, Viktor was well-acquainted with chasing the unknown, full speed ahead, no matter the danger. "I have to turn, now, don't I?"

Yuuri nodded; his eyes, black as the void, seemed almost sad. 

"Will I become something like you?"

Yuuri shook his head. "No. You could, with millions of years to pass; I was human once, too - a wizard, then a necromancer, then an incubus. But you would have to trick the souls out of gods to reach me, and I don't intend to let you seduce anyone but me." Yuuri pulled Viktor closer, not with his hands, but with the tentacles that slid smooth and warm like snakeskin around his back. Into Viktor's ear, he whispered: "Don't ever look away from me, Viktor."

"I wouldn't dream of it." 

Yuuri kissed Viktor, long and deep, and Viktor's entire being sang with the heat of it. His tongue pushed into Viktor’s mouth, and Viktor could feel himself begin to change. 

Time slowed, flowing one hour into the next like one eternity into another, and was at the same time fleeting; Viktor imagined days must indeed be passing as he took Yuuri's corrupting influence deep into his very core. His skin burned under Yuuri's touch, as his blood froze in his veins and his clothes melted from his flesh. His scalp itched, until he felt the cascade of hair down his back like it had fallen when he was a teen, before he cut it off in a trade with a minor hedge-fae for the book which started his journey. 

No vanity was too precious to be given up for knowledge. And here Viktor was, amidst the return of everything he’d given and then some. 

He felt Yuuri's hand on his lower back, claws digging in at the spot where Viktor had once glimpsed an inky black tattoo of a squid on the other man, and from the blood drawn grew a tail, long and snake-like, curling around his hip and reaching for Yuuri's thigh, thick with plush fat over hard muscle, clinging to him like a lifeline. Viktor felt a crushing in his chest, and in that moment wondered if this change would kill him after all, if his heart would give out and ice over, but that was not the pain's source at all; the pressure subsided, and Yuuri's hands and mouth took in the shape of the breasts that filled out as Yuuri's had, and he took Viktor's swollen nipple between his teeth. 

Finally, there was a tingling behind Viktor's eyes, and the world around them darkened, with Yuuri in the middle of it all, shining like a beacon. He was Viktor’s sunshine, still, in all this darkness. 

Viktor's now-cold heart squeezed; with the last ounce of his humanity Viktor whispered his dog's name, concerned for her safety. 

"Oh, don't worry about Makkachin," Yuuri murmured. His voice sounded like a choir, all speaking in time, rhythmic and musical. "She can stay, and we'll treat her well, as we treat every dog well. All dogs go to heaven; we wouldn't want to jeopardize her."

"And me? Where will I go?"

"You will stay here, with me." 

Viktor tried to blink, but found his eyes would no longer close. "Will I see my friends again? My mothers?"

"They may visit whenever you like. We reject no visitor who brings us no harm. But I am afraid, my love, that you will not be strong enough to leave this place until well after their lives end." Yuuri kissed him again, slowly, his lips firmly closed, then pulled back once more. "I will make you my prince, my dearest love. My only love. You will lack nothing, so long as you love me. And you will have all of me, as I will have all of you, in every way possible." Yuuri's voice turned low at the end. His hand slipped low on Viktor's back; a tentacle lifted his tail, and another slid under him, pushed at his hole, from which a slick fluid dripped. The tentacle pushed in, thick and unyielding, tearing into his useless insides, turning his whole body into a cock sleeve, lighting him up with pleasure in every nerve. Yuuri groaned as if that tentacle were his cock, which had grown as well, his balls sliding against Viktor's and the glans pushing between his and Viktor's breasts. 

" _Yes_ ," Viktor moaned. He wanted to feel it inside him, the full length and girth of that impossible, monstrous cock in every new crevasse the tentacle had torn open. His head tilted back, and Yuuri's lips devoured his once more. Yuuri's tongue pushed past Viktor's lips, then down his throat, filling him, long and thick, choking him. 

" _You are mine_ ," Viktor heard, Yuuri's voice thrumming from the very air around them. " _I love you, Viktor_."

" _I love you too, Yuuri_ ," Viktor answered, pushing the words out from his heart as they could not escape his spasming throat." _My master, my king_."

The tentacle pushed in deeper, deeper, thickening doubly, triply; fucking in with burning, stabbing pain, accompanied by the highest pleasure; claws tore into Viktor's breast, into the muscle of his tail, and sharp teeth slashed his lips. 

" _Mine!_ " Yuuri's voice screamed into the darkest dawn, three days after their arrival in his domain. " _Mine, mine, mine!_ "

\---

_May 31, 2016_

_Journal of V. Katsuki-Nikiforov, Prince Consort of Hasetsu_

_I am undone, and remade._

_I am Yuuri's._

_I am perfect._

**Author's Note:**

> Time skip/dissociation - At one point Viktor and Yuuri don’t realize several days pass while they are in one another’s company.
> 
> Transformation/androgyny/large insertion - in their non-human forms, Yuuri and Viktor grow horns, breasts, claws, and tails. Yuuri also has wings and tentacles. His dick is described early on as being the size of a forearm, and after transformation comes up to at least his breastbone. 
> 
> No dubcon - the sex (including the more violent parts) as well as the transformation, is consensual. However it is violent, as can be the case with demons and demigods, and some of the consent is implied rather than explicit. 
> 
> Violence/evisceration - after Viktor is made immortal by his transformation, Yuuri decides he doesn’t need all those superfluous organs anymore, and essentially tentacle-fucks them out of him. This is not described in great detail, but it’s in there. Yuuri also draws blood from Viktor with claws and bites.


End file.
